


What Tangled Webs We Weave

by SheWhoWalksUnseen



Series: ColdWestAllen Week 2018 [6]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Spider-Man Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, ColdWestAllen Week 2018, F/M, Flirting, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Harassment, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Pining, This Fic Came Into My House and Kicked My Ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-25 11:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16196411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/pseuds/SheWhoWalksUnseen
Summary: “Damn radioactive spiders,” Len muttered under his breath.“Lenny,” Lisa’s lips twitched in a valiant effort not to laugh as he searched the room for his sneakers. “You do realize you can’t blame your terrible flirting on an insect that gave you superpowers, right?”Or, 5 Times Len Saved His Crush(es) and 1 Time They Kicked Ass to Save Him





	What Tangled Webs We Weave

**Author's Note:**

> This is so late. Like, actual _months_ late. Still, I've been promising and working ever-so-slowly on writing this nightmarish "it's just a 5+1 one-shot, how hard can it be?" fic and it's finally done so I'm releasing it into the wild because I never want to write spider terms or action scenes again.
> 
> This was originally going to feature Barry as Spider-Man and a general human disaster when it comes to his secret identity (because it's canon and hilarious), but then I thought about Len being a disaster and this somehow devolved into what you see now. Also: I changed the costume color from red and blue to white and blue. It was funnier in my head at the time.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me and urged me to keep writing this even when I tore my hair out over it, specifically _KiddyStormi_ and _SophiaCatherine_ who helped look over and beta this mess!
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

1.

Before the bite, Len had always taken care to avoid the nastier alleys and streets in Central City, especially when he had to tote Lisa around when she was small. He never went alone down those roads, not unless he was being dragged by his father into a bar or Mick knew of a job that they could get intel on nearby (and even then, the latter was a rare occurrence). Call him overprotective or paranoid, but he wasn’t about to get himself killed over a stupid decision. He had Lisa to think of – and he quite enjoyed being alive, thank you very much.

After all, there was little he could do to protect himself even with the switchblade Mick had gifted him last summer. Unlike Mick, Len wasn’t built with broad shoulders and more muscle weight than there ought to be on a high school student. Sure, he’d grown since juvie, but he was still fairly thin compared to most of the leering folks in the run-down parts of Central City. He’d hardly be able to take down a couple of thugs unless he caught them by surprise.

Then he’d gotten bit by the spider – a goddamn _radioactive_ spider, which was a bad idea from the get-go and, by all rights, shouldn’t exist. Still a strange concept for Len to try and wrap his head around even now – and his priorities had…shifted, to say the least.

Not that he didn’t try and avoid the more unsettling areas and alleys in the city when he could. But Mick had made an off-hand suggestion once about some of the struggling teens that camped out down there, hoping to either sell themselves or drugs to get by, and the idea wouldn’t quit nagging at the back of his mind.

Maybe it was because of his own situation, because he was thinking of Lisa, and maybe a little of Mick, and he knew what kinds of shitty people there were out there in the world and –

Fuck it.

The point was, he didn’t turn his motorcycle away as quickly from the less appealing side of Central City anymore. He wasn’t on his bike whenever he went there these days anyway. Something about the outfit Lisa had sewn for him, albeit a bit garish in bright white and blue shades, made it easier to show his (masked) face without dealing with any of the cruel consequences the police or Lewis would be able to come up with to punish him.

Lisa had taken to the idea of Len becoming a neighborhood watchman (he refused to call himself a superhero, no matter how many times she turned those puppy dog eyes on him) rather eagerly and was the first to encourage him to use his abilities outside of petty theft. Besides, she reasoned, how else would he be able to practice using these “weird web powers” – her words, not his – without being caught?

Admittedly, it hadn’t turned out to be such a terrible idea thus far. Len was getting the hang of being able to stick to buildings and judge when to jump and swing himself across the rooftops. It was certainly better than the first few attempts he had made in his bedroom under Lisa’s rapt attention with Mick’s undisguised amusement spurring him on.

(They were never going to speak of those attempts. He hadn’t _meant_ to give Mick a wedgie, damn it, Lisa!)

He was making his rounds tonight around the block when the muffled shout an alley over caught his ear. Len swung himself on top of the roof of the tattoo parlor and crouched, taking in the situation. The last time he’d thought about swinging in blind, he’d torn an unfortunate rip across the left armpit of his suit and his sister had griped for days while she tried to fix it.

“Good costumes are hard to come by, Lenny,” she’d tried to tell him, waggling a finger in his direction, which didn’t look intimidating given the plethora of pins sticking out between her teeth. Still, he’d learned his lesson.

The would-be mugger in the alley was greasy-haired and brandishing a gun, a sneer rippling across his features as he closed in on a couple against the opposite wall. He seemed to be arguing with one of them, if his raised voice was anything to go by. Len couldn’t see much of the couple - a boy and a girl, probably about his age, the girl with a darker complexion than her partner - from here since they were standing in the shadows, but neither sounded particularly forthcoming about giving the mugger their wallets.

“This ain’t a debate, just hand ‘em over!”

“Look,” Len jolted from where he was crouching, recognition sparking in the back of his mind as the boy’s nervous voice carried up to his ears, “we don’t have any money, man. I swear! Can we just - “

The gun pressed against the boy’s chest, cutting off his plea. The girl tried to step forward, maybe to help or shout, but the sight of the gun edging further into her boyfriend’s gray sweater kept her frozen.

That and the criminal’s curling lips as he scanned the girl’s figure with ill-disguised interest, which – gross. Despite her fright, she looked ready to slap him upside the head with his gun.

“I’ll give ya to the count of three to hand ‘em over.” Len pushed himself to his feet on the roof, steadying himself for a deep breath. “One...”

There was a window ledge across from him that looked sturdy. He could fire a good amount of webbing at it to keep him from falling.

If he ripped the suit again, Lisa was going to kill him.

“Two...”

The girl started to say something but Len didn’t wait around to listen; he leapt off the roof, allowing himself a split-second in mid-air before he fired webbing at the ledge, feeling his makeshift rope pull taut as he swung down into the alley. He heard gasps, likely from all three onlookers, as he swung into view and kicked the mugger in his side, sending him sprawling and his gun skittering out of his hand.

Len touched down in the alley and walked toward the mugger as he tried to scramble to his feet. A quick burst of webbing pinned down his torso, locking his arms to his sides.

“What the hell kinda - ?! Lemme up!”

Len hummed in response but did no such thing. He retrieved the gun and emptied the barrel, the bullets pinging against the concrete before he tossed the gun aside.

Sometimes perps made it far too easy to knock them down, even for a teenager in spandex who could stick to ceilings.

“Who do you think you - ?” Len didn’t bother hiding his irritation, firing another, smaller spray of webbing over the criminal’s mouth to shut him up. He looked alarmed, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets as he tried to shout, but it was really more of an overreaction.

Len wasn’t a _monster._ The least he could do was let the guy breathe through his nose until the cops came.

“Oh my god,” the boy murmured. Len’s head snapped to the couple, who still stood staring at him. The boy’s mouth had fallen open in awe while the girl looked on with blatant excitement. She seemed more intrigued by his powers than anything, her eyes bright as she stared at his fingers, as if she expected him to aim at her next. “Oh my god, you’re _him_.”

Len tried not to freeze. It didn’t help that the boy’s words came out breathless like he was speaking an exultation.

He was far more used to hearing peals of laughter across the school courtyard, watching food fights between the pair and their friends on the grass begin for no reason, seeing those pearly grins focused at one another with blinding intensity that would put the sun to shame. After all, Barry Allen and Iris West were the most talked-about couple at school, had been for the past couple weeks since Barry finally got over his nerves and asked his best friend out on a date. It was kind of difficult _not_ to notice them.

It didn’t help that he’d been paying attention to the pair for a lot longer than two weeks.

“You totally owe me ten bucks.” Barry turned to Iris now, momentarily distracting Len further with the way his dimples stretched his cheeks. Despite the hint of stubble on his chin, he still had a baby face that he didn’t seem to be growing out of any time soon.

Iris rolled her eyes but she didn’t seem annoyed by her boyfriend’s declaration, still watching Len as if she were afraid he’d take off and disappear the moment she turned her back (not that he wasn’t tempted to). “Babe, is now really the time?”

“I told you Web-Boy was real!”

Len wrinkled his nose. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a terrible name, I know, sorry,” Barry said, his cheeks darkening as he turned to Len, “but Cisco - uh, our friend, that is - he likes coming up with nicknames and he swore he saw you last week near his house. There was a break-in at his neighbor’s, I think? Anyway, he said he saw you on the roof but you disappeared before he could get a picture.”

There’d been quite a few break-ins in the last week so Len simply nodded in acknowledgment. After all, it wasn’t like _he_ could remember all of the people he’d helped thus far.

“Not that I’m asking for a picture or anything,” Barry kept rambling, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh. “Do you even have a name, actually? And I’m not talking about your alter ego or whatever – though don’t get me wrong, that’d be – ”

“Gonna need to call the cops.” Len would’ve felt bad about talking over Barry had he not seen Iris’s lips twitched at the way her boyfriend ducked his head. He thanked Mick’s forethought to include a voice modulator in the suit. He was sure Iris and Barry weren’t the types to blow his identity if they were to figure it out via his voice, but considering that Iris was the head editor for the school newspaper and Barry ran a not-so-secret conspiracy blog - which he really only knew the existence of due to Lisa bringing up posts to embarrass him, but that was neither here nor there - he couldn’t be too careful. “They’ll be able to take care of him.”

Iris snorted, though her expression came off as more of a grimace than one of amusement as she glanced at the struggling form of the would-be mugger on the ground. “My dad’s a cop, I know how this works. Suppose that means you’ll be running off on us, though. How’d you even know we were here?”

Ah, right. He’d forgotten about Joe West.

Len was once again grateful for the mask – the last thing he needed was West recognizing him as the kid he’d caught multiple times running “errands” and jobs for his father before he’d been sentenced to juvie.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“That so?”

“Happens more often than you’d think.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “You do realize how stalker-ish that sounds, right?”

“Well,” Barry piped up with forced cheerfulness, lacing his fingers through Iris’s in a poor attempt to quieten her inner journalist for the moment, “thank you for saving us. We’re very grateful. Really.”

“Don’t suppose you’d consent to an interview?”

“ _Iris_ ,” Barry hissed.

Len found himself smiling under the fabric of the mask despite the way Barry’s eyes darted between Iris’s steel-eyed stare and Len’s blue-and-white-clad face. “Maybe another time. Can’t say I’m a fan of the spotlight, though it’s always nice to meet an admirer.”

“Never said I was an admirer,” Iris countered, the pink tips of her ears begging to differ. “People deserve to know who’s out there protecting the city.”

“Don’t mistake this for something it’s not. I’m no hero.”

It was Barry’s turn to snort. “What do you call this?” He gestured around them as if the alley itself were enough explanation.

“Being a good Samaritan.” He ignored the twin chuckles of disbelief and took a couple steps back, eyeing the window ledge he’d swung in on. Still a little sticky from leftover webbing, but sturdy enough to chance again. “Speaking of – the police. Call ‘em. Or, better yet, call your father even if I’m sure he’d love to know why you both were out here in the first place.”

Interestingly, panic passed over their expressions, a blink-and-you’d-miss-it kind of look that Len knew too well. His gut clenched at the silent exchange.

He knew West could be a hard man, fiercely protective over his children and of Barry, who had grown up next door to the Wests. He clearly loved them and despite the arguments he’d seen (“eavesdropped on”, a voice that sounded eerily like his sister’s mocked him in the back of his mind) out in the school parking lot, he wasn’t a bad man. Joe West was no Lewis Snart.

He _knew_ that.

Still, Len couldn’t help staring back at the pair, at the way Iris schooled her face into one he’d seen Lisa use whenever she wanted to shut down a conversation, with a gnawing beast roaming around the pit of his stomach.

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” Iris announced.

“I’m willing to bet you don’t know these areas as well as I do,” Len said slowly, fighting the urge to leap into action and head to the precinct there and then to give West a piece of his mind. “And I _believe_ someone implied it was my job to keep people like you safe. Unless you’d like to explain why you’re running around in back alleys to him instead of me – ”

“Fine. Fine, I get it.” Iris let go of Barry’s hand to fold her arms over her chest. “I was following a lead. One of our classmates – I heard from a friend that someone at school was involved in drug trafficking around this area. I wanted to investigate. Barry came to keep me company.”

“And to try and talk you out of it.” Barry looked at her knowingly and she gave him a thin, somewhat sheepish smile.

“That didn’t last very long, though.”

“Because we both knew you were going to ignore me anyway.”

“And yet you still came.”

Len cleared his throat and glanced away when they turned, startled, as if they’d forgotten he was standing there. “A little reckless, don’t you think, Miss…”

“West. Iris West.”

Barry held up a hand in a weak wave. “Barry Allen.”

Len nodded, not that he’d needed an introduction. At least it gave him an excuse to call the couple by name without having to explain himself. “And you don’t think sneaking around in dark alleys to find your drug-dealing classmate is the least bit dangerous?”

“Look,” Iris’s voice hardened, “I get your concern, whoever you are, and I appreciate you taking down that guy, but we’re not helpless. I’d rather go after those who deserve it and expose the truth than not take any risks at all.”

“I think your father’d rather have you alive than dead, is all I’m saying.” Iris opened her mouth to protest but Len raised his hands to cut off the words on the tip of her tongue. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Just be more careful out here. I’d hate to see you wind up _in_ the papers.”

She tilted her head in consideration, but her piercing stare didn’t let up. Even Barry looked faintly thoughtful, his eyes falling to watch Iris’s face.

To his surprise, a slow smile, broader than the one she’d given her boyfriend a minute prior, spread on her lips and his chest tightened. “Don’t think I need to worry too much if our friendly neighborhood spider-man is out here keeping an eye on things.”

Huh.

(Lisa was never hearing about this.)

“Journalists don’t get stories out by getting themselves mugged and shot,” he said, purposely ignoring the ball of relentless fervor rolling around his insides. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, you need to let the cops know they’ve got a package to pick up.”

“Not going to stick around?” Barry sounded curious, if a little disappointed.

“Places to be, people to save. I’m a busy guy. You’re not the only ones flirting with danger in Central City.”

“Who said anything about flirting?” Iris shot back. Her smile seemed to grow in the dim light of the alley.

“I did.” Len fired at the window ledge, giving the line of webbing an experimental tug before inclining his head toward the pair. “Cops. Call ‘em.”

“Alright, alright,” the words came out as half a sigh despite the laughter building in her voice, and her shoulders finally relaxed. It may have been his imagination (or sleep-deprivation) but he swore there was a spark of something close to warmth behind her gaze this time. Barry certainly wasn’t hiding the way he stared, that awed look returning to his face. “Thank you.”

Len was almost tempted to remove the mask to wink at her – which was ridiculous. Totally ridiculous.

He really needed to get back and sleep.

“Any time.” He leapt into the air before either of them could speak, firing another rope of webbing off the nearest building and using the momentum to pull himself out of the alley and through the streets of Central City, his mouth curling at the corners.

 

***

 

He felt more than saw Lisa arrive at his table in the cafeteria.

She nearly slammed her water bottle onto the table, eyes narrowing in the face of Len’s blank stare when he glanced up. Mick muttered something under his breath about drama using a good deal more profanity than he’d prefer in front of his sister.

“You’ve been acting weird all week.”

“Good afternoon, beloved sister of mine. How was the test in Wells’ class?”

“Don’t ignore me, Lenny. I know something’s up.”

Len met her gaze again with practiced indifference. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“For starters,” Lisa slid onto the bench, choosing to ignore his eye roll, “you’ve been acting distant.”

“Well, that’s just rude.”

“You hung back in the hallway to listen to your favorite high school sweethearts talk – have been  hanging around for the past _two_ _days_ , as a matter of fact – ”

Len didn’t like where this was going. “Lisa.”

“ – which is more than you usually do and not nearly as obviously – ”

“Is there a _point_ to this?”

“You’ve been following ‘em around and she’s concerned,” Mick chimed in, not looking away from his ham and cheese sandwich. The long-suffering look on his face was one both Snarts were well-acquainted with.

“I’m not _following_ anyone.”

Mick grunted the equivalent of a silent _yeah, right, of course not, boss_. Len glared harder at the side of his face.

Lisa was less than impressed by his denial. “So those times when you claimed to be going back to your locker to get your bag _weren’t_ spent watching your crushes whisper and gossip about their plans for next weekend?”

“That’s…oddly specific.”

“A little birdie told me,” Lisa said, in a saccharine-glazed tone. “You were too _distracted_ to notice.”

Shawna, then. He knew it was a mistake introducing his sister to her at lunch last year. The girl had a talent for hiding in plain sight. Len wouldn’t have been surprised if she had superpowers.

He ought to look into that.

His sister was still staring expectantly, arms folded over her chest. Len was tempted to sigh; he settled for closing his eyes and counting to five. “I rescued them from a mugger the other night.”

Mick actually turned to face him as Lisa’s jaw dropped. It was rare to read open surprise on his best friend’s expression. “You’re serious?” Len nodded and Mick whistled. “Damn. No wonder you’ve been following ’em.”

“I _have not_ \- ”

“Afraid they’re gonna forget their wallets in the bathroom?” And now they’d reverted to teasing again.

“You’re hilarious.”

“Wait, you _saved_ _them_ the other night?” Lisa held up a hand, leaning in eagerly. “Why the hell didn’t you mention that? What happened?”

“Nothing.” Mick snorted and Len rolled his eyes. “Really. I just pinned down the mugger and told them to call the cops, be safe, the whole spiel. Then I left.”

“You mean to tell me that you saved not one, but _both_ of your crushes,” Lisa said slowly, “and you just _left_?”

“Close your mouth, Lise, you’ll catch flies.”

Mick groaned. “You and your fucking puns, Snart.”

Lisa frowned before her face scrunched up as the pun dawned on her. “Oh, that - nope. That better not be literal.”

“He’s not a frog.”

“Spiders eat flies too, Mick. You know, they trap them in their webs and - ugh, I don’t even want to think about my brother eating flies for lunch.” She pushed away her tray, looking slightly queasy.

Len’s eyebrows rose. “You know I’m not a real spider, right?”

“ _Anyway_ , the _point_ is, you had a golden opportunity, Lenny!” When Len stared she rubbed her temples with a shake of her head. Stray curls bounced around her cheeks, free from the ponytail she’d thrown her hair into that morning. “You’ve been starry-eyed for years over them - first the cute science nerd - ”

“Allen,” Mick murmured helpfully before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“ - and then his knockout girlfriend, but that’s just it! Have you ever actually _talked_ to them outside of class? And no, lecturing them on safety as your alter ego doesn’t count.”

Len glowered but Lisa tilted her head in challenge. Yeah, it was official: she was spending way too much time with Shawna.

His gaze flitted over her shoulder to connect with Iris’s smile across the cafeteria, Barry’s ducked head as his cheeks glowed crimson when her lips brushed his ear. He watched her hands skate over Barry’s sweater to twine with his fingers, saw the long-haired kid (Cisco, wasn’t it? Maybe he did remember seeing him around the time of that break-in) waggle his index finger at how close the pair were sitting, almost on top of each other, yet they didn’t jump apart in embarrassment.

Mick and Lisa exchanged mutual _you see what I mean?_ looks when they thought he couldn’t see, and his stomach did a strange flip-flop like a dying fish on a pier.

It was fine.

Len was an expert on bottling up his feelings, alright? Living under Lewis Snart’s roof, you had to be, especially when your sister’s life and well-being was ten times more valuable than your own, when your old man knew how to break you by going through her.

Sure, he’d watched Barry for years from afar, teased him when they ran into each other in chemistry and the hallways after their final classes for the day, grown to watch Iris as well as her own pining for her best friend became more apparent even as Barry’s helpless, dopey smiles grew near-pitiful. It was just - he was _interested_ , okay? That was all it was.

A healthy interest in two people who didn’t know him well aside from circulating school gossip about the motorcycle-riding delinquent who hung out with his ex-juvie pal and equally dangerous sister.

Right.

Maybe Lisa had a point.

 

2.

He was outside the cinema, assuring Lisa that _no,_ he wouldn’t be late to their movie night, that he was perfectly on-time, thank you, when he heard the scream to his left, down the street between the cinema and the shoe store. For a moment he entertained the thought of walking away, but Lisa had insisted on him wearing his suit when he could, just in case, and with the frequent patrols lately he could feel this urge to _go, go, go_ surging in his gut.

 _Superhero_ , Lisa’s voice taunted in the back of his head as he took off for the corner.

“Shut up, trainwreck,” Len mumbled under his breath, throwing off his sweater and jeans into a corner by the dumpsters, yanking up his mask the moment he was in the shadows.

It took another few leaps (and a near face-plant into a brick wall when he lost his footing that his sister would _never_ hear about) before he managed to identify the source of the shouting, which was still ringing down the street as people scattered away from -

Ah. Of course.

What was with criminals and brandishing guns like they owned the city?

The man in question, with an impressive dark beard and beady-eyed stare, was manhandling someone with one arm around their throat, the other pressing the barrel of the gun against their chin as he barked orders back at a pair of nasty-looking goons. The latter were hefting bags of cash - really, could they _be_ any more obvious? - and beginning to part the crowd as they tried to bolt.

Len wasted no time; he leapt and swung low, aiming a kick at the closest goon’s (frankly offensive) handlebar mustache before he touched down behind the fallen man. The second goon spun on his heel but Len whipped the gun out of his hand with a jet of webbing, smirking at the dumbstruck look on the moron’s face. He fired another burst to pin the man to the wall and ignored the indignant cry the collision elicited.

A tell-tale click near him made Len tense but a glance showed it wasn’t Len the remaining criminal was aiming at. And _no_ , his heart did not stutter because of all the fucking people who could’ve gotten themselves into a hostage situation in the middle of the street, it _would_ be Barry Allen.

(Either that or Iris West, he thought sourly, remembering the fire in her eyes in that alley, evidence of her unerring determination to see her story through even if she wound up in a bodybag.

...Maybe it was better that he had to rescue her boyfriend and not _her_ this time.)

“One move and I blow his head off, kid,” the man hissed, spit flying from his chapped lips, causing an ashen-faced Barry to cringe. “Don’t want any trouble, do you?”

“Did you take a course in Villainy 101,” Barry grumbled, “or is it your goal to excel in acting like a stereotypical shitty supervillain?”

Len blinked behind the fabric of the mask and the criminal stared at the side of Barry’s face.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t better if Barry was planning on mouthing off with no regard for self-preservation. 

No wonder he was in love with Iris.

“ _What_ did you say?”

Barry huffed, his eyes darting to the arm around his throat as the gun pushed harder against his chin. “Seriously, man, all you’ve done since you held up the store is spout one-liners like ‘Don’t want any trouble’ and threaten to kill me when _clearly_ \- ”

“I _will_ shoot you, you idiot - ”

“Yeah, yeah, you said that twenty minutes ago and I stopped believing that after _fifteen_ minutes, so - ”

Len took mercy on the agitated crook and lassoed the gun in webbing and caught it with a flick of his wrist. He didn’t bother waiting for the surprise to even dawn on the other guy’s face before he shot webbing into those wide eyes and yanked Barry out of the loosened grip so he could knock the crook out with a well-timed punch.

It was Barry’s turn to blink dumbly. “Oh. Wow, that was…”

“Awfully thoughtless and ballsy of you to insult a thief who would have blown your head off?” Len finished, casting a look down the street to see civilians poking their heads around corners to see if the coast was clear. He spotted more than one phone out, likely videotaping the whole ordeal. Really, it was no wonder people in Central City were shit at protecting themselves if all they did was _film_ potentially dangerous incidents instead of _running._  “Yeah, I thought so too.”

Barry had the nerve to laugh, not quite as nervous as he’d sounded during their first encounter. “I was _going_ to say that that was very cool and _thank you_ for saving me - again - but that’s a little offensive.”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Hey, you saw the guy! All he did was monologue about how he was stealing back the money the owner owed him and he’d get his revenge. Stereotypical supervillain shit, and believe me, I’d know.”

“I don’t think a blog on conspiracies qualifies you as a supervillain expert,” Len pointed out. Barry’s eyes widened.

“Wait, you read my blog?”

The sound of police sirens cut in, thankfully, and Len flexed his fingers, stepping back from the alarmingly eager look on Barry’s face. “Don’t think your girlfriend’s father would appreciate you putting yourself in danger again, so at least _try_ and be careful next time. What were you even doing in a _shoe store_ at this time of night?”

“You’re terrible at changing the subject, anyone ever tell you that?” Len glared despite the mask but Barry must’ve guessed the intent because he went back to chuckling. “Alright, I get it. Just saying. I was buying Iris a Christmas present, okay? I didn’t mean to get in the way of those guys, they cornered me at the register.”

Len cocked his head. “Halloween _just_ ended two weeks ago.”

Barry shrugged. “She’s wanted these black flats for ages. Got these little purple flowers around the heel, like her name, you know?” Len hated the way his chest clenched at the sight of the small smile that tugged at Barry’s lips. “Figured I’d get them before I forgot - because believe me, I’ve been the guy in line at the mall the day before Christmas trying to pick the perfect gift _far_ too many times. I almost wound up getting Cisco a video game _he’d_ already gifted me three years ago, I was that desperate, man.”

“Right.” Something in his tone must have come off curt because the barely-there smile vanished. Part of him - a _ridiculous_ part of him - bemoaned the loss. “Well, it’s getting late and I hear there are more supervillains lurking about, so you’d better scram before you want to explain to her father why you were buying shoes for his daughter and became a hostage in the process.”

“You’re not very good at making small talk, are you?”

Len suppressed the urge to snort. “The rest of us have plans too, Mr. Allen.”

The smile returned, not quite a blinding grin but undeniably teasing. “I’m pretty sure we’re about the same age, dude, you don’t have to call me that. I doubt that weird distorted _thing_ is your real voice, after all. Just Barry’s fine.”

“Fine, _Barry_.” He swore the other’s ears pinkened but with the police rounding the corner any second now, he didn’t have any time to sit back and relish in the sight. “See you around. Well, hopefully not, since you and Miss _Iris_ appear to be magnets for trouble.”

“Says the guy flinging himself around in a skintight blue suit.”

 _Touché._ “I’m not the one getting mugged or taken hostage.”

Barry grimaced. “Again, not intentional.”

Len fired a burst of webbing at the brick building nearest and tugged. “Fascinating as this conversation is, stay out of trouble, Barry.”

“You too, ah…” Barry tilted his head. “I don’t suppose you have a better nickname than _Web-Boy_?”

Len wrinkled his nose. Yeah, that was pretty bad. “I…” Something nagged at his memory, something Iris had mentioned, and he sighed. Lisa was going to give him so much shit for this. “Tell your girlfriend ‘Spider-Man’ ain’t half bad.”

By the time Barry’s eyes lit up Len was in motion, launching himself into the air as the cops rolled onto the scene.

 

***

 

He was wrong. Lisa did indeed tease him throughout the whole movie, but Mick’s guffaws over the phone when Lisa called him after were ten times worse.

He had a feeling he was going to regret giving himself a _superhero-esque_ nickname.

At some point soon, probably. Right after he finished reading Barry’s newest _Saved by Spider-Man_ post on his blog.

Maybe he did have a problem.

 

3.

After the first two times, he hadn’t expected to rescue Barry or Iris again. After all, Barry seemed to understand the danger of putting himself in the way of crooks or walking through dark alleys at night, and if anyone could get through to Iris West it was her boyfriend.

(Len did _not_ whine about the lack of activity for the next two weeks, no matter what Lisa or Mick claimed.)

So it was safe to say that he was more than a little annoyed ( _relieved_ , hissed that suspiciously sister-like voice in the back of his mind) when, less than a week before Thanksgiving break, he ran into the couple near _Saints and Sinners_ on an errand for his father.

Literally - he rounded the corner and almost toppled over thanks to Barry slamming into him. Only Iris’s steady grip on Len’s forearm - and Barry’s, he was close to falling flat on his face too, the klutz - saved him from landing on his ass.

Funny, he hadn’t anticipated on encountering them outside the suit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Len growled to himself. He supposed it would’ve been asking too much for them to hold off on risky shenanigans before Thanksgiving.

“Wha - oh!” Barry drew back, pulling out of Iris’s hand, his brow furrowing. “Wait, Lenny?” His face flushed. “Or, uh, sorry, I mean - we have chem together and I heard your sister call you that, I didn’t - ”

“Len’s fine.” He eyed the hand on his forearm pointedly but Iris didn’t let go. He wasn’t sure he liked the look on her face; there was something perceptive in her stare, almost _knowing_. “Don’t remember seeing you two around this place. Unless you’re planning on getting carded for being underage.”

That got Iris to draw back. She stuck out her chin and crossed her arms over her winter jacket. The sliver of skin between her jeans and her black blouse underneath distracted Len for a split-second before he registered she was speaking. “Then I suppose you won’t mind sneaking us in, if you’re a regular here, Snart.”

“Yeah, no. Do you two even have fakes?”

“Wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

Len rolled his eyes. “I’m not helping you sneak in.”

“I won’t tell my dad we saw you here,” Iris said, flashing him a sickly sweet grin that rivaled the one Lisa liked to use when he was being “difficult”.

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell him that I saw his daughter with her boyfriend hanging in seedy bars either, then.”

Barry winced at the glare Iris sent Len who merely inclined his head. He held up his hands, moving between them before one could advance on the other (though if anyone were to start a fight, and finish it, the aggressor would definitely be Iris). “Look, Len, we’re not here to drink or anything. We just need to get into the bar without drawing any attention to ourselves. You’ve been here a lot, right? If they let you in - ”

“One,” Len stepped forward and part of him was irrationally pleased when Barry didn’t retreat, his eyes flitting between Len’s raised finger and his face, “they let me in because, in case you didn’t notice, this isn’t a high school cafeteria. There are real criminals inside playing pool and looking for an excuse to pick a fight. And two: there’s no way you wouldn’t draw attention to yourselves.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

They had to know what they looked like, especially with Iris’s shoulder pressed against Barry’s back, in their sweaters and hoop earrings, a picture-perfect pair. They couldn’t be more obvious if they were holding up signs that read _We’re eighteen and in love and we’ve never stolen a penny in our lives!_ Next to Len’s leather jacket and the knife in his back pocket…

Yeah, they’d never stand a chance.

Len scanned them both with a quick flick of his gaze, not bothering to hide his _appreciation_ for once. Iris’s cheeks colored faintly but she stood her ground.

“Let’s just say,” he drawled, “that neither of you look like criminals.”

“Len.” He started to open his mouth to cut Barry off but an unexpected warmth closed around his wrist and any words died at the heat behind Barry’s hazel eyes. “Please. It’s important, okay? We wouldn’t… We wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t.”

“And just _what_ could be so important?”

Barry glanced back at Iris who hesitated only a moment before nodding to her boyfriend. The twin stares, alongside Barry’s grip on his wrist, sent curls of lightning buzzing underneath his skin.

“Iris’s brother, Wally. He - ” Barry shut his eyes. “He got involved with some bad people, they’re making him meet them here tonight. Criminals like you said. He doesn’t _want_ to, he’s not - it’s not like - ”

Damn them both. Len was tempted to close his own eyes. He settled for a grimace and ignored the flare of relief that crossed the couple’s faces.

Lewis was going to kill him for wasting time. Thank god Lisa was at Mick’s, had been since he realized it was either him or Lisa on call tonight.

“Stick close to me,” he ground out. “Not a word, just stick by me even if you see him.”

Iris frowned. “But - ”

“Do you trust me?”

Iris opened her mouth before shutting it swiftly. She considered him, her mouth a thin line as Barry fidgeted, his fingers rubbing absently on the inner skin of Len’s wrist. The touch was foreign; he wanted to jerk away from the soothing warmth, call the whole thing off.

“What if they’re already here?” He’d never heard her voice waver like this, an almost imperceptible shift if he hadn’t been watching her. “And he’s - ”

“Iris.” She blew out a breath and Barry placed his other hand on her back. It felt so wrong, to be part of this moment, to be connected by Barry’s hands when the worry bleeding from them both was palpable. Len forced his voice to soften, to gentle and steel Iris’s nerves. “I need you to trust me. Wally will be fine. I know what I’m doing.”

Barry murmured something to Iris Len couldn’t catch and squeezed her shoulder. Iris cast a small smile toward Barry and bit her lip. Len pretended not to notice that her right hand was balling up the hem of her winter jacket, the slow paling of her knuckles standing out like speckled stars in the dark.

“Alright,” she whispered, moving closer with a side glance toward the door of _Saints_. “Alright. I trust you.”

(Later Len listened to Lisa scold him while she hid his bruises with makeup, fussing over the black eye he knew would swell for a few days, and didn’t tell her of the way Barry hugged him after Len managed to distract the dealers long enough for Iris to drag Wally out of the bar, the tears shining in Iris’s eyes as she whispered _thank you_ like a mantra.

Somehow, the unbridled gratitude felt...more fulfilling.

Well, maybe “fulfilling” wasn’t the right word for this strange sense of accomplishment, something more tangibly _good_ than another raving blog post about the “Amazing Spider-Man”, as Barry had taken to calling him.

They did need to have a talk about names, though. Spider-Man wasn’t much better than freaking _Web-Boy_.)

 

4.

“Hey, Len!”

His head jerked up at the sound from where he’d been looking over review material for his upcoming world history test. Len managed a smirk when the librarian shushed Barry who mouthed an embarrassed _sorry_ before hurrying over to his table.

“Pissing off nice old ladies doesn’t seem like your style.”

Barry’s face puckered up like he’d swallowed a lemon whole. “I don’t know if I’d call Mrs. Warren _nice_.” He dropped his bag beside Len’s. “She once got mad at me for asking her where I could find a biology textbook. And that was _before_ I snuck a sandwich in so I could study during lunch.”

Len chuckled. True, Mrs. Warren had a tendency to remain perpetually grouchy, no matter the student or question. She’d always liked him and Lisa, though, had once babysat Len when his father had been out on a “work trip”. Maybe she thought Barry was planning on corrupting him and his quiet corner in the back of the library.

As if _Barry_ would be the one doing the corrupting.

Then again, it hadn’t been _Len_ who suggested a study session with the couple. He suspected it was meant to be thanks for helping with Wally - the past few weeks since Thanksgiving break had ended, they’d dropped by Len’s table occasionally, insisted on asking how his break had been. Iris had even invited him to one of Barry’s track meets.

Mick waggling his eyebrows when Len bade him and his sister goodbye hadn’t been amusing, no matter how hard Lisa had giggled.

(Sweaty Barry Allen in his tracksuit was a sight both worth the drive to school and agonizing to watch, especially when Iris pulled him in for a giddy kiss at the end. He...may have stared a little too long.)

“Iris’ll be here soon,” Barry said, digging in the bottom of his bag for his books. Len swore he saw a half-crumpled paper with the first day’s schedule on it rustle around the notebooks. “She got caught in a meeting with the other editors for paper, something about wanting to branch out instead of interviewing the quarterback. _Again_.”

Len didn’t miss the bitterness clinging to those last few words and leaned forward as Barry pulled out his beaten notebook. The other was too distracted to register the movement, picking some gum off the cover with a scowl.

“Woodward, huh?”

“Tony, yeah.” Barry dropped the notebook on the table harder than necessary and cast a nervous look toward the librarian, who, thankfully, wasn’t paying attention. “He’s been harassing her again and the coach isn’t _doing_ anything about it.”

An ugly knot sat heavy in Len’s gut. He hadn’t talked to Woodward much, mostly avoided the guy since Mick had kicked his ass freshman year for trying to shove Len’s head down a toilet, but it’d take an idiot not to see the way Woodward leered at Iris, had since before she and Barry had gotten together. Coupled with the fact that Woodward still knocked Barry around in the hallways and taunted him like they were still in middle school, the problem was glaring. It wasn’t hard to picture the guy flirting with Iris while she tried to interview him or, worse yet, having to deal with _worse_ advances alone in the locker room.

Not that Iris couldn’t take care of herself (though Spider-Man might beg to differ). He had no doubt that a cop’s daughter, especially one of an overprotective cop like Joe West, could kick someone in the balls if the need arose. But he could sympathize with Barry’s frustration. The pinched expression gave him enough pause to steeple his fingers under his chin.

“You tell the principal?”

“She doesn’t want to make a big deal. Said if he doesn’t stop she’ll go to the coach again.” Barry gave a quiet laugh, the sound flat enough for Len to feel like cringing. “They’re on top of anti-bullying policies, obviously.”

Knowing Woodward, he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. With him being the quarterback, primed for college scholarships, there was no way the coach would intervene aside from a light slap on the wrist.

Barry ran a hand through his hair, mussing the strands enough that a few strands fell over his eyes. Len’s own hand twitched with the strange urge to grab it so he’d stop fiddling with them. “Sorry, I’m just… Tony pisses me off. Iris shouldn’t have to deal with him being an asshole.”

“She shouldn’t, no. There are always going to be assholes like him.” Len held back a growl, thinking of Lewis, of Lisa running upstairs with red marks on her cheeks, of the healing bruises and ribs he suffered for her sake, of Mick’s cold looks every time he dropped Lisa off before a job. “That’s the way of the world, unfortunately.”

“Yeah.” Barry met his eyes and bit his lower lip, hand freezing in his hair. Len couldn’t stop himself from glancing down at the way his teeth caught the lip hard, pink giving way to a darker red. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

He didn’t realize Barry’s words had dropped to a murmur in time before he tore his gaze away to see the uncertain look in Barry’s eyes. Fuck.

If his breath hitching was indication enough, his lack of subtlety hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Len leaned back, flipping his notebook open to the homework and ignoring the searching stare boring into his face, his heart constricting with how _stupid, stupid, stupid_ he was acting. “You’ve got the test in Wells’ class tomorrow, right?”

He half-expected Barry to jump on his too-loud question, to call him out when _Iris was on her way, what were you thinking?_ The longer Barry stared, the more he yearned to get up and leave, escape the conversation.

“Uh, yeah.” Barry cleared his throat and Len didn’t dare look up. “Yeah, we’ve got - ”

The doors to the library blew open with a _bang_ and their heads whipped toward the entrance as one, the other students gasping as a figure in black strode through the doors, a sneer visible on his face even from here. Mrs. Warren started to move toward him but she flew back, as if she were thrown by a gust of wind, after the first two steps, her back striking the closest bookshelf. A couple of people screamed and ran further into the library. Storm clouds clustered against the ceiling, setting off the sprinklers and inducing another round of screams.

Len’s stomach sank. He _really_ wished he didn’t recognize that mop of blond hair.

“Is that…?” Barry stood, his eyes widening with undisguised curiosity and horror. “Wait, _Mark Mardon_ is Weather _-_ ?”

“Not the time to chat about this!” Len grabbed Barry by the arm and pulled him behind a bookshelf as Mardon stormed (literally, with how the books were beginning to whip around like mini tornadoes off the counters and shelves) through the library. Barry let out an involuntary yelp as a book nearly whacked him in the head, ducking down next to Len.

“Yeah, but that’s _Weather Wizard_ , how are you not concerned about this?”

“I’m more concerned about not getting spotted than what Mardon’s been doing since he dropped out last spring,” Len hissed, peering through the books. “And _what_ did you call him?”

Barry’s cheeks flushed. “Cisco came up with it, okay? Kinda fits him.”

Len might have to have a talk with the guy about terrible nicknames. Though, nothing could be as awful as _Web-Boy_.

A table was thrown against the wall with the force of Mardon’s growing windstorm and he heard someone whimper nearby. Barry tensed against Len’s side and not for the first time, Len was glad he hadn’t listened to his sister’s teasing about wearing the suit at all times. After all, you could never be too careful while maniacs like Mardon wreaked havoc on your high school.

He’d known Mardon had gone off the rails since his brother Clyde’s accident, blaming the police for getting involved and taking him down - which, really, the guy had had coming since he’d tried to _rob a bank_ , but that was neither here nor there - but he hadn’t heard anything of the guy since he’d dropped out in April.

Len _had_ heard of a man who could control the weather, who’d robbed a fair share of banks and seemed to be targeting the police specifically over the last month. Figures that Mardon would decide to follow in his brother’s footsteps and avenge his death by any means necessary.

Still, could he have the decency to do so when Len _wasn’t_ dressed as a civilian?

“Hide all you want,” Mardon sneered, thankfully moving toward the opposite end of the library instead of toward Len’s hiding spot. “I’m sure your precious police will arrive soon. Which one of you wants to give them a call for me, huh?”

Barry exhaled shakily. “We’re bait,” he murmured. “There’s no way someone didn’t see him come in or call the cops already, they’ll be here soon.”

“In the meantime, I’m sure we can have a nice _chat_.”

Len glanced at the open doors of the library. He could see a few students hurrying past, their cell phones out. Barry was right; there was no way someone hadn’t called the cops.

“We’ve got to do something,” Barry whispered. Len did not shudder at the brush of air over his ear.

“I’ll go get help. Stay here.”

“What?” Barry whipped around with narrowed eyes. “No! He’ll see you, are you crazy?”

“I’ll be fine.” Barry started to protest but Len pressed a finger to his lips to quieten him. “We can’t help if we’re hiding from Mardon, and two of us will draw more attention.”

Barry tried to shift back to avoid his finger and pouted when Len didn’t budge. Len raised his eyebrows and waited until Barry nodded reluctantly and pulled away.

The thunderclouds gathering on the ceiling rumbled, darkening with every passing second. Len kept to a crouch as he rounded the corner and held to the bookshelves. He could see the back of Mardon’s head, the wind rustling his hair as it grew stronger.

Barry shot Len a nervous look from behind the shelf. Len forced a thin smile and hoped it came off reassuring as he ducked behind a table. He immediately got to work, yanking off his jacket and shirt to change into his suit.

“Freeze!” Len stiffened. He heard Barry gasp and quickly threw up his mask, but Barry wasn’t coming closer, hadn’t seen him changing.

It only took a glance toward the open doors of the library to understand why. Mardon turned with a sneer set on his face.

“The police are on their way,” Iris announced, her voice firm in spite of the tremble Len could spy in her hands. She was holding an object in her left hand, some sort of container that he couldn’t make out from behind the table. Pepper spray, perhaps? Not like it’d do a load of good against a man who could control the weather. “You should leave while you can, Mark.”

Mardon snorted, spreading his hands. The winds picked up, tangling Iris’s curls no matter how she tried to push them away from her face. Len felt something cool hitting his skin as he pulled down his jeans and peered at the ceiling. Sure enough, the clouds were growing, slowly but surely, and now _rain_ was falling.

“That so, _West_?” Mardon spat the word like it was smallpox, a shadow passing over his face alongside the clouds above.

“You don’t have to do this.” Iris stepped closer and Barry made a soft noise. “Look, I’m sorry about - ”

Mardon thrust his hands forward and a gust of wind slammed Iris backward into the wall, a pained cry escaping her. Someone called out but the storm clouds gave a rumble in warning, the rain beginning to soak the books and papers lying about. Len shoved his clothes into the bag under the table and scrambled behind the nearest shelf as a bookshelf toppled next to him.

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about my brother!” Mardon’s voice seemed to echo with the storm. “Your dad is the _reason_ he’s dead!”

“Mark - ”

“Clyde wasn’t perfect, but he was my brother. The least I can do is avenge him. An eye for an eye - or however the saying goes.”

Iris choked, her breaths coming out harsh. Len poked his head around to catch sight of Mardon moving forward, his hands outstretched. The pressure of the winds holding her in place must’ve been crushing her chest. “No, _wait_ \- ”

Mardon snarled, his fingers curling to form fists, and she wheezed louder. “I was gonna look for your brother, but I think you’ll do just fine.”

“No!”

Len swore under his breath as Barry surged out of hiding, tackling Mardon. Iris slumped to the floor with a harsh gasp. The stray papers blew in a frenzy around the library, obscuring his view of Mardon and Barry’s tussle, and the shelves near Len groaned.

That did it. Clearly all that talk of taking fewer risks was bullshit if neither Iris nor Barry could be bothered to care about _basic self-preservation_ in the face of a revenge-seeking superpowered criminal.

Len rolled out into the open and fired at Mardon’s ankles. He grimaced when the wind carried the webbing a little off-course, hooking an arm rather than a leg - same difference in the end, right? Mardon barely had more than a moment to register what was happening before Len _yanked_ and sent him sprawling to the floor again with a yell.

“Leave! Go, get out!” Len called to the students crouching behind shelves. The last thing he needed were liabilities.

A few students took the warning to heart and sprinted for the library doors with renewed confidence. Thankfully that was all it took for the slow trickle to turn into a stampede. Not even Mardon’s grunts as he pulled himself off his ass, the indoor rainstorm ripping through their clothes and Len’s suit like paper, deterred the whimpers and pounding footsteps behind him. A few students skirted around the front, hurrying past Mardon with pale faces.

He crossed the room and braced himself against the gust that nearly knocked him onto his face. Barry seemed to be of similar mind, hurrying to his feet and staggering toward Iris’ trembling form. At least she wasn’t unconscious, just shaken.

“I’ve heard about you.” Mardon flung his arm out, wind currents tearing the viscous webbing to shreds as he started to rise off his knees. The rage in his eyes seared through Len like brands pressed flat against his flesh. “ _Spider-Man_ , was it?”

“Always nice to meet a fan,” Len said. His lips quirked at the familiarity of the statement, the memory of Iris’s ears darkening side-by-side with verbal denial. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the thunder myself, though. I like the cold but,” he clucked his tongue, “the rain’s a bit overkill, don’t you think?”

“I like the rain. Seems appropriate.”

“Last I checked, it wasn’t hurricane season.”

Mardon opened his mouth to reply but Len was quicker, webs tangling in the biting storm as they connected with the other’s chest or missed due to the speed of the winds. He didn’t wait for Mardon to get up as the nape of his neck prickled; he ran forward and blinded Mardon with a shot to the face. The muffled shout was his only cue to roll aside before a bolt of _lightning_ blasted the spot he’d stood a split-second prior. Len counted himself lucky he wasn’t rendered deaf or blind.

Still, his ears buzzed and he could make out someone calling out through the rain, though whether it was to him he couldn’t tell. Probably Barry trying to convince Iris to move or vice versa.

Whoever it was, it didn’t matter. Mardon was beginning to swivel onto his side, hands clenched in the webbing over his eyes. Len fired once more to trap his hands and stumbled over, gritting his teeth as the faint whiff of ozone pierced his senses. He seized Mardon by his jacket and hefted him to his feet unsteadily before clocking him upside the head.

The shift in the storm was instantaneous: the winds ceased, rainfall slowing to a drizzle as the clouds lightened ever-so-slowly. His ears rang but the threat of being fried to a crisp was minute now, as evidenced by Mardon slumping in his grip. The cold slickness of his suit, soaked by the rain and pasted to his skin, was also becoming more apparent with each passing moment.

Surprisingly uncomfortable too, to boot, especially in certain -

Yeah, he was definitely going to need to air-dry if Spider-Man didn’t want to become Speedo-Man.

“Is he,” it took years of practice against his father’s anger not to startle at Iris’s hoarse voice behind him, “is he unconscious?”

“Probably.” Len dropped Mardon like a sack of potatoes into the nearest chair. He did _not_ relish in the would-be killer’s head hitting a soggy precalculus textbook with a _squash_ because that would be petty.

And justifiably satisfying.

He glanced over his shoulder. Barry had helped Iris to her feet, though she didn’t look as shaken now, familiar scrutiny rekindling in her expression as she gripped her boyfriend’s arm to steady herself. They both were dripping wet, hair plastered to their face. Iris’s white blouse was practically see-through and Barry’s sweater looked two sizes too slim on his skinny arms. But aside from a couple of small bruises Len could spy on Barry’s chin they appeared unharmed.

“You alright?”

Barry nodded and slung his free arm around Iris’s waist as a shiver wracked his body. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Speaking of which, I thought we’d gone over the whole ‘not antagonizing people who want to hurt us’ lecture.”

Barry didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, his brow furrowed with an emotion Len couldn’t place. “I wasn’t going to let him kill Iris.”

“You’re also lucky you didn’t get more than a few bumps and bruises,” Len reminded him, gesturing to said injuries pointedly. “Getting yourself killed isn’t the smarter solution.”

“He was killing _her_ \- !”

“And it would’ve helped no one if you wound up in the hospital, or _worse_ , in the process.”

“And what about - ” Barry cut himself off and his throat worked over an invisible lump. Len watched his shoulders stiffen, an uncharacteristic hollowness flitting behind hazel eyes. He almost thought he saw something _hurt_ staring back at him and the idea clutched his heart with clawed talons.

Whatever Barry wanted to say or ask, he didn’t deem it worth repeating. Len had the sense he was being judged in a similar manner to the way Iris had stared him down during their initial run-in. Though for what, he wasn’t sure.

“Barr,” Iris murmured after a moment, squeezing his arm, “I’m okay, really.”

“Well, lucky thing you were there to help,” Barry said, not taking his eyes off Len. The forced, cool tone knocked Len’s next words clean off his tongue. He didn’t seem _angry_ , but there was something tight in his jaw, a muscle pinned to the spot and fluttering like a butterfly’s wings, that made his spine go rigid. “I don’t know what we would’ve done otherwise.”

People were starting to shout at the end of the hall - the cops arriving, kids scattering as they hurried for the exits.

“You should go.” Iris’ voice was quiet enough for Barry’s thin-lipped stare to break. She glanced at him in askance but whatever she saw behind those hazel eyes only made her frown deepen. “Before they get here.”

Right.

He knew that.

The unease lingered. He couldn’t shake the idea that he’d wronged the pair, that he ought to be staying to ask for…

Well, he didn’t know what for.

Barry looked away finally, his eyes falling on the mess of wet papers and books and shelves turned over, on their bags thrown under tables either from the storm or earlier carelessness. The table where he and Barry had been sitting not minutes ago was still upright, but the chairs had been blown back into the shelves, Len’s bag lying flat onto the floor.

He could see a peek of his dark Henley sticking out of the zippered pocket, hastily stuffed in while he’d been changing.

A lightbulb went off in the back of Len’s head, a pinprick of heat choking the question he realized he might _know_ the answer to.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it coming. Len was usually better at this - _better_ at hiding secrets because he had to be, couldn’t show weakness.

Didn’t explain why numbness was replacing the tight heat in his chest, though. Why he felt like he’d just…

 _Sloppy, sloppy work_ , _Leo,_ Lewis’ familiar scoff echoed in his ears.

He didn’t bother grabbing his bag, knew he’d just come back for it once he weaseled his way into the crowds of students being ushered out of the school. It didn’t matter anyway. There was no point in hiding, making excuses.

He took off down the hall, swinging around the corner and past the oncoming slew of cops.

The slack jaws and wide eyes would’ve been more amusing if his gut hadn’t felt like it was resting at Barry Allen’s feet on the damp carpet.

 

5.

“Damn radioactive spiders,” Len muttered under his breath as he searched the room for his sneakers.

“Lenny,” Lisa’s lips twitched in a valiant effort not to laugh, “you do realize you can’t blame your terrible flirting on an insect that gave you superpowers, right?”

Len didn’t turn around, kept rummaging through the closet with his eyes fixed to the peeling yellowing wallpaper his hand dislodged every time he brushed the wall. Lewis refused to hire someone to fix it or repaint the walls like a normal human being, insisting that any money saved was money earned.

In other words, _fix it yourself if it’s bothering you so much, you lazy piece of_ -

His bed creaked as Lisa threw herself onto it with a huff and Lewis’ voice faded from the forefront of his mind. “You know, I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. Did I or did I not warn you about getting too into the superhero/savior gig?”

“You were the one who made the suit, if I’m remembering right.”

“I meant _this_.” He imagined she was gesturing to him vaguely despite the fact he couldn’t see her. “You’ve been snappy all week, even Mick’s getting annoyed with you.”

“Don’t see what that has to do with having superpowers.”

“ _Lenny_.”

He did turn at the groan, his fingers faltering on the last button as Lisa frowned up at him. She looked ridiculous with her curls spread around her head in a brown halo on his comforter, her arms folded over her lacy top that was _not_ appropriate for the weather outside and _definitely_ not a school day.

She still looked five years old to him sometimes, huddled in his blankets with a black eye and asking him when he’d be back from a job with their father in the darkness of his room, refusing to return to her bed until he came home safe.

“I’m not stupid,” she said now with the same petulance that she bore as a child.

“Never said that.”

“But you are for thinking avoiding your crushes is going to make them not worry about - oh, say, why you’ve been hiding from them after class.”

“I’m not - ”

“Cut the crap.” If he were a lesser man, Len might’ve flinched at her harsh tone. As it was, he just stared back.

“Lisa.”

Her frown morphed into a full-on glower. “Don’t ‘ _Lisa_ ’ me, asshole. You’ve been irritable all the time and you won’t talk to me about whatever happened after Mardon attacked. Even _Dad’s_ noticed.”

He debated denying the claim but his sister’s eyes narrowed, as if she sensed the very thought itching its way into existence, and Len shut his own with a sigh.

“Nothing happened.”

“Oh, for - ”

“And I’m not avoiding them. Not deliberately, anyway.”

Lisa pushed herself up onto her elbows. “What the hell does that mean?”

He didn’t speak. He allowed his gaze to drift to the folded blue suit in the back of his closet, the spider web on the chest seeming to wriggle in the dim light as if to mock him.

“Lenny, come on. I want to help.”

“I think he knows.”

She fell quiet, the only indication she’d heard him at all coming from the rustle of bedsheets as she sat upright. Len almost wanted to laugh at the concern poking through the cracks of her feigned nonchalance. “What do you mean?”

“At the library, Barry...” Saying his name made his voice waver unintentionally. “He got angry and I think he knows about not just _that_ but…”

It took her a second to understand what he wasn’t saying, what he couldn’t say. Lisa sucked in a sharp breath. “Wait, are you sure?”

“I’d bet both of our _allowances_ on it.” Well, allowance was putting it nicely. The measly dollars Lewis forked over when they needed money for food were barely enough to support themselves for a day, not when he knew both of his children would run if he gave them an inch of freedom.

“What did he say? Did he tell West?”

“Probably told her,” Len said, knowing it had to be true. Iris and Barry seemed like that couple who talked about everything and anything, leaving no stone unturned, no secrets between them. “And he didn’t say anything to me, not about it specifically. Just...got cold. Distant. And I knew when he saw the bag.”

“What bag?”

“Where we were working before Mardon came in. Had my stuff, my clothes, but no me.”

Lisa nodded and hummed in acknowledgment. “He’s smart, and so is she. They would’ve figured it out eventually.”

“I know.”

“But I wasn’t talking about _Iris_ West when I asked before.”

Oh.

Huh.

He hadn’t even thought about Barry telling his girlfriend’s father, her _cop_ father who would rather arrest Len than listen to him explain how he’d become a vigilante instead of a petty thief.

“Well, I’m not in a jail cell, aren’t I?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “You’re a superhero to Central City - don’t even make that face, you know it’s true, jerk. You know he wouldn’t lock you up for that. Besides, Mick and I would happily stage a break-out if Detective West did make some... _poor_ choices.”

Len snorted. “How kind of you. But no, Barry wouldn’t. Hasn’t, I don’t think.”

“Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t.”

“He was starstruck the first time we met while I was in the suit. He’s not the type to go around telling people’s secrets.”

“So, why are you avoiding him, then? Or, _them_ , I should say.”

He’d been debating the question himself for the past week or so. Debated cornering the pair after class, hinting at an answer.

The thing was, the longer he pictured the blank look on Barry’s face and compared it to Iris’s teary-eyed thanks, to Barry’s hug, to the teasing and _flirting_ he hadn’t stopped despite _knowing_ -

He felt their eyes on the back of his head in class, thought he heard Iris try and call out to him once. Len’s insides roiled at the idea of conversation, even if they tried to pretend nothing happened, that nothing was out of the ordinary.

Len turned to face his sister fully and crossed his arms over his chest. Kept his expression indifferent, unaffected by the clenched fist around his throat. “It’s safer. Easier for them. Besides, they need to stay out of trouble, and it’s not like there aren’t others who can help.”

“Easier?” Lisa gave him her best _are you bullshitting me?_ look. “For them or for you?”

 _Both_ , he wanted to say.

Lisa’s phone vibrated on his bed and she grimaced, hesitating before moving to grab it. “Mick,” she announced, reluctance clinging to her voice. “Says he’s outside, gonna drive us.”

“Good.” Len ignored the pointed look Lisa sent his way and grabbed his jacket. He didn’t spare a look behind him as he moved to leave the room. “Tell him we’ll be down in a sec.”

 

***

 

It wasn’t the loss of identity that irked him, the unraveling of his secrets to someone he innately trusted as much as he did his sister or Mick.

(He wondered if Barry had told - or _would_ tell - Iris about the staring in the library, the flirting, the pieces that they _had_ to have put together because Lisa was right, they weren’t _stupid_.)

Len had never been allowed to _want_ for himself, to be selfish when it came to anything outside of Lisa’s safety or his own need for money or supplies. Not because he didn’t deserve it (he didn’t) but because it just… He _couldn’t_.

For a moment, he’d forgotten he couldn’t.

 

***

 

Karma, Len decided, yanking his mask over his face with unnecessary vehemence, was a right _bitch_ of a thing.

Honestly, you would’ve thought students wronged by the school - by the _police_ , even - would decide to take notes from Mardon’s failure, think first before acting on impulse and doing something monumentally stupid.

“Stand down!” He could hear West’s yells from where he hid around the corner, see the anger and worry blazing in his eyes even from this distance. The other officers fanned out in the hall took no notice of Len, too busy focused on closing in on their target.

When Lisa had called him and told him about another teenage terrorist holding students hostage, he _really_ should’ve realized there was only one club staying after school today in an _English_ classroom. 

A dark chuckle echoed in response, almost inhuman and distorted. Maybe wearing a mask, though it didn’t sound like Len’s voice modulator, more low-pitched and gravelly. “You talking to _me_ or your men?”

And there was one person dumb enough to take on a dozen police officers because of petty rejection.

“Let them all go, Tony,” West said, clearly struggling to come off calm. “Put the gun down.”

Another laugh. Len shifted, trying to edge around the corner and get a better look at the situation. “I’m not here for you.”

“Put the gun down,” West repeated. Len saw his shoulders tense, saw Woodward now at the end of the hall with a gun to Iris’s head and an arm around her neck.

Of fucking course. Barry’s voice filtered through his thoughts, murmuring a bitter _They’re on top of anti-bullying policies, obviously._

“Tony, please - ”

Woodward cut Iris off with a warning squeeze. “The rest of her little _team_ are down the hall, don’t worry. Iris and I, though? Oh, we’ve got some business to take care of.”

“I told you,” Iris spat, her fingers digging into Woodward’s sleeve even as he squeezed again, “I _don’t know_ where he is, Tony, I’m not a GPS. Even if I did - ”

Len’s stomach churned as the gun dug into the side of Iris’s head through her unruly curls, the intake of breath from her father enough to make him both briefly furious and (irrationally) envious of the open concern West displayed.

“Like I said,” Woodward said breezily, his smirk wide and bright against his paling skin, “we’re gonna have a chat while we wait. He’ll be here. So, if you excuse us…”

“Tony, we don’t want to open fire, son,” West said, his voice rigid. “Put down the gun and let her go.”

Woodward’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. Len hated the way his chest tightened; it was the uncanny resemblance to Lewis’ furrowed concentration, the look he got when Len or Lisa fucked up in some way shape or form before his fists did the talking, that struck him like a lightning bolt to the heart.

His father only studied him like that when he knew he had the upper hand.

“Yeah,” the quarterback’s mouth twisted into a leer and his pallor - _no, not pallor,_ skin didn’t turn _gray_ \- shifted with the same inhuman sound of metal grating on metal he’d heard before and mistaken for a _voice_ , “I don’t think so.”

Several gasps and shouts started to rise from the officers and Len dove into the open, rolling to his feet beside West as he yanked the fire alarm down with a rope of webbing. The blaring noise startled the group and Woodward, who appeared more akin to a metallic statue than human, enough for Len to whisk the gun out of the other’s grasp and skittering down the hall behind him.

“You - !” He swung forward and fired at Woodward’s face, aiming to blind him and silence the inevitable cry of outrage. The student raised his now-gunless hand and got a fistful of sticky fluid instead, though it gave Iris a chance to duck out of his loosened grip and bolt behind Len. The mottled bruises on her neck let something ugly nest in his chest, hissing and spitting like a serpent coiled around her eggs.

“Spider-Man,” the relief wafting off Iris shouldn’t have been such a comfort, “the other editors, they’re - ”

“The police will get them,” he said, glancing back at her father purposively as if to say _any time now_. “Something tells me guns won’t work against Iron Giant here.”

West’s worry was dissipating by the minute but the resounding scowl didn’t put Len’s mind at ease. “You do realize your goo isn’t much better and interfering with - ”

“Dad, please! He threw some desks around, hurt a couple of girls. They need medical attention.”

Woodward broke through the wad pinning his fingers down and his dark eyes swiveled to Len. If he’d thought Mardon looked pissed, that was nothing compared to Woodward’s steely fury.

“Albert,” West muttered, “take a couple men and go get those kids.” 

“On it, detective.”

“I’m gonna pound your ass into the ground, _insect_ ,” snarled Woodward, an undertone of something close to excitement causing his senses to scream _run_!

“Not my type, sadly, but thanks for the offer.”

Iris made a choked noise as Woodward advanced and Len pushed her into the lockers closest before she could be flattened into a pancake. West and the rest of his officers hovered back, looking like they wanted to start firing, but the sight of Woodward’s twisted expression in steel and their useless weapons were enough of a deterrent.

It wasn’t enough to sway Len from lassoing one of the quarterback’s beefy arms with a thick strand and dodging to the left, narrowly avoiding a punch to the face. Unfortunately, Woodward was no _human_ and snapped the web without breaking a sweat, as if Len were a mere inconvenience, leaving Len a second before the other charged.

Alright. Brute force wasn’t the way to go.

Shame, he’d been looking forward to decking Woodward.

“Get out of here!” he called to the group as he rolled to the side, trying to wrap a quick burst around Woodward’s ankles.

“What, no!”

Len caught a glimpse of West hurrying over to Iris, a hand on her shoulder though he didn’t put away his gun. Woodward’s fist distracted him, catching Len’s side only to retreat as he roared through a new layer of fluid over his metallic features.

“Baby, head outside, we’ve got - ”

“He’s made of _metal_ , Dad, you’re not going to be able to stop him!”

“You’ll be safer out there!”

“He’s not after _me_ ,” and here her voice _broke_ , earning Len less than a moment to spring out of the path of a wildly flailing fist, Woodward already ripping through the makeshift mask, “you don’t understand - ”

A hand caught Len’s forearm and _twisted_ and he couldn’t quite contain the sound he made, strangled and high as his bones protested. He ducked under the other arm, pressing his hand to the side of Woodward’s face and ignoring the muffled grunt as webs crawled up his metallic replacement for flesh. The other tried to shake him off but Len held on and allowed it to start spreading over his mouth.

Woodward jammed a steel elbow into Len’s stomach and he _pushed_ against the throb, a thick paste slapping over Woodward’s mouth even as the latter released him. Len took to the ceiling with a tug of his wrist and gasped involuntarily at the spike of agony up his arm. He fought the urge to grin down at Woodward’s upside-down expression despite the pain.

Or, he would have grinned, if the sneer marring Woodward’s features didn’t unnerve him so much.

“I wouldn’t hurt her, don’t worry.” The amused assurance fell on deaf ears, West moving to pull Iris out of the hall. The contents of Len’s stomach recoiled at the look on Woodward’s face as he reached up to swipe at Len, who was already trembling with the effort it took to hold himself up, not to mention the blood rushing to his head. “Not when Iris has been so _helpful_.”

 _He’ll be here_.

Fuck.

He had to get out, get everyone out and call for Lisa and find a way to contain -

Iris cried out as Len dropped, grinding his teeth as he swung out of reach only for Woodward to yank on the line, throwing him into a locker. Len’s head connected with the metal and he struggled to push himself to his feet even as he heard Woodward chuckle, advancing -

The world faded to black with a swift backhand to the face and the passing thought of _That’s going to leave a mark._

 

+1

Len came to alongside the feeling of fire lacing its way through his veins, slowly burning him alive.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the quake in his arms, breathing through his nose with difficulty and pressing his lips together to bite back a shout, fingers curling. The lack of circulation and the pain in his stomach, head, and left arm combined weren’t doing him any favors in letting him keep his cool. His toes rested on the floor just so, not enough to hold him steady when something rattling - _some kind of chain, had to be_ \- wound around and up his forearms, keeping them pointed toward the ceiling.

The school.

Iris.

Woodward.

Something cold dripped on the back of his neck and he jerked away. Probably water from the ceiling, no big deal. No big deal.

Len could feel sweat dripping off his brow with each shaky breath. The suit trapped it usually, but -

Fuck, where was his _mask_?

Lisa and Mick were going to _kill_ him. If they didn’t try and kick Woodward’s ass first, that is.

Speaking of, where was -

“You know,” Len schooled his expression the best he could before opening his eyes, nose wrinkling at Woodward’s now-human smirk, glee plain as day across his face. He almost liked the metallic version better, no matter how punchable this one was. “I gotta hand it to you, Snart. Didn’t expect you to put up a fight.”

“Should’ve guessed you’d pick a fight for the hell of it.”

Woodward laughed and Len took in the boxes and cluttered tables behind him, the scent of oil permeating through the air. The space wasn’t large, maybe big enough for an SUV and a pair of bikes, and lit by only a couple of flickering bulbs. Old tires and car parts littered the floor, as if they’d been tossed aside.

Where were they? A warehouse, maybe?

“Nah, I knew what I wanted. You took a little longer than I expected, though, had to improvise. The bug powers definitely aren’t as impressive as Allen’s blog makes them out to be.”

Len shut his eyes and counted to three, willing his hands to still. If Lisa had been able to find Barry’s blog, of course it wouldn’t take long for someone searching for information on the city’s vigilante for more _corrupt_ reasons to come across the site too.

“How long’ve you had ’em?”

Woodward shrugged and moved closer to where Len was hanging. “A few weeks. Maybe. I dunno. Just woke up one day and found I could do this.” He held up a fist and the flesh solidified into metal before Len’s eyes. “You?”

“Month or so before Halloween.”

Woodward whistled, cocking his head. “Damn. Figured it was a while, but you’re still new to all this, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“True. I’m sure a lot of those guys you put away would love to kick your ass. Funny, wouldn’t have pictured _you_ as the face of heroism.”

Len bared his teeth in lieu of a smile. “I’m no hero.”

Woodward grabbed one of the chains and tugged gently, sending a spasm up Len’s arms. He clenched his jaw to stop a low, embarrassing sound from escaping and glared at Woodward’s growing delight. One of the boxes feet from Woodward shifted and rustled, but that might’ve been courtesy of his pain-addled imagination.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say that either. Took a couple of tries smacking you around before you crumpled like a tin can. Not very hero-like, I’d say.”

“Is there a _point_ to all of this?” Len strived for his usual drawl but it came out more like a hiss. “Or is terrorizing students for attention something you get off on?”

Woodward didn’t seem to be listening; his grip tightened on the chain and he shook it harder. Len’s breath hitched before he could steady himself. He struggled to focus on creating a ball of webbing in his fists, around them to shield his hands, but he was still disoriented and weak. Mick and Lisa hadn’t suggested any experiments with his powers in case he was _kidnapped_. Swinging around didn’t help him much in this case, not when he couldn’t stop shaking.

“How the hell _you_ wound up as a hero is beyond me. Everyone knows you’re just as bad as those folks you’ve locked up, hitting up bars for your daddy and stealing shit on weekends. Even got your own fan club now.” Woodward leaned in, his expression darkening in a way that had nothing to do with his superpowered metamorphosis. “Do Iris and Allen know who you are, Snart? How _pathetic_ you are?”

“The only pathetic one is you, Tony,” came a low growl outside Len’s field of vision. His lips curled on instinct before he registered why it sounded so familiar.

Though, in the time it took, Woodward had turned and been knocked flat on his ass with a baseball bat to the face.

Iris shook her hair out of her face and huffed, meeting Len’s gaze as she lowered the weapon. She must have changed out of the red dress she’d had at school for more flexibility; if he were in the right state of mind, Len might have taken a moment to admire the way those skinny jeans hugged her legs.

He wasn’t expecting her shoulders to slump or the glint of what looked like _joy_ in her eyes. “Always wanted to do that,” she admitted guilelessly.

“Is he out?” Barry’s voice to his left made him jerk in surprise and sent a new twinge of agony through him. He grimaced as Barry came out from behind one of the boxes, concern immediately taking hold when he spotted Len. “Shit, that doesn’t look good. Give me a minute, don’t worry.” He scrambled over, pulling one of the stools by a table with him. For a better vantage point, Len realized once Barry started working on loosening the chains cutting off his circulation.

Iris spared a dismissive glance down at Woodward, who had a suspicious welt forming on his non-steely forehead. A small smug smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, I think he’s out, Barr.”

“Thank god,” Barry muttered under his breath. Iris looked like she was torn between laughing and fussing over Len’s tender lacerations as fiercely as her boyfriend was. She did neither, thankfully, and pulled out her phone to send off a quick text.

Len fought to clear his throat, hating how dry it felt. “How did you - ?”

“Cisco called up one of our friends, she’s a crazy good hacker,” Barry explained. His fingers brushed Len’s injured arm, causing Len to inhale raggedly. He whispered an apology before setting back to work untangling the chains. “We got her to try and track down Tony’s phone since I don’t see any pockets in your suit, which...kinda sucks, honestly. Didn’t work, he must have changed his number. But luckily Iris remembered he used to work in his dad’s garage, and that led us here.”

“I texted your sister,” Iris said. Len’s head whipped toward her and he regretted the pain of the motion for an instant. “She’s on her way, I think with Rory.”

Good. At least he’d be getting his ass kicked by them both sooner rather than later.

“Oh, almost forgot about Lisa.” Barry grunted as the left arm came loose and Len clenched his jaw, pins and needles stabbing viciously into the free limb’s tendons. It was a bit awkward hanging with one arm, but dropping his other arm to his side was like a balm. “We called her, let her know Tony had you. Didn’t know if she knew about...you know. Also, super scary when she’s pissed off. Uh, don’t tell her I said that.”

“West know you’re here?”

Iris snorted and pocketed her phone, walking over to steady Len as Barry yanked at the other arm. Her hands were warm against the ache on his side. “Told him I was staying over at Linda’s for the night. I’m more surprised he didn’t send a fleet of police cars to stand guard outside.”

“And my dad’s working a late shift at the hospital, so he won’t be back until late,” Barry added. The arm came free quicker than Len’s injured arm and he fell forward with a hiss. Iris switched her grip to his shoulders when she saw his flinch and Barry hopped down to take her place, his hands lighter on his stomach. “But we probably should call Joe and let him know where Tony is, babe.”

“Oh, good point. I think I saw a phone booth outside, be right back.” She gave Len one of those perceptive looks before retreating and hurrying back out of the garage.

“You good to walk?” Barry asked him.

Len took an unsteady step forward and clutched Barry’s shoulder when his legs threatened to give out. “I’ll be fine.”

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“I’m not _helpless_.”

“I didn’t say that. You’re not helping anyone getting yourself killed trying to walk, though.”

Len couldn’t help recoiling slightly at the familiarity of similar words he’d snapped at Barry not long ago. Barry’s mouth opened before he thought better and closed it just as fast.

Right.

“Do you want to, um, sit down?” Len nodded and Barry yanked the stool closer for him, his hands fluttering over Len’s suit for a second more. He tucked his hands under his arms, shoulders stiffening.

Len didn’t know whether to blame his disappointment at the loss of Barry’s hands on the pain or…

No, definitely the pain.

“This is so weird,” Barry murmured after a few moments. His gaze was fixed on the spider emblem on Len’s chest.

“Sneaking out to fight supervillains?”

“No. Well, I mean, yeah, though I don’t think Tony counts as a supervillain.” Barry glanced up and bit his lip. “I meant the whole...you know…” He gestured to Len weakly.

Oh.

Maybe they ought to go back to talking about his injuries.

Or Woodward.

Or how much Lisa was going to tease him once Iris and Barry were gone over the whole “I’m sorry, I don’t like you like that” conversation.

Well, she would tease him about getting rescued by them. She’d let him sulk later.

“Ah.”

Barry’s lip-biting was a little distracting, especially when he bit down _harder_. “I hope you don’t mind that I told Iris? I just - I didn’t at first, because it wasn’t my secret to tell but after Tony, I couldn’t...”

“It’s alright.” Len held up a hand to cut Barry’s rambling off before it could begin anew. “Really. I get it.”

“I’m sorry too, for getting mad. I thought…” He paused. “I thought we were becoming friends and for a moment, I thought you only to wanted to be friends to keep an eye on me and Iris.”

Len stared. “You - wait, what?”

“You saved us _so_ many times,” Barry continued, a little miserably, “and I wasn’t mad you were Spider-Man, but there are only _so many_ coincidences, so - ”

“You think _that_ was why I went to your track meets and study sessions and helped you sneak into bars? Because I wanted to _keep an eye on you_?”

Barry blinked. “Why else would you?”

Len just stared incredulously.

He wondered if it was too late to take back a crush. Were there rules to this sort of thing?

“You’re an idiot.”

Barry frowned. “Um, what - ?”

“I saved you both because I _wanted_ to. I went to all those sessions because I _wanted_ to. I helped you get into _Saints and Sinners_ to help your girlfriend’s brother because I _wanted_ to.”

“Well, yeah, because it was the right thing to do, but - ”

Len grabbed Barry by the labels of his winter jacket with his good hand, shaking his head. “Do you know how many people I smuggle into bars on a weekly basis, Barry?”

“Uh, none?”

“Exactly.” Len knew he ought to let go but his hand didn’t seem to want to cooperate, curling tighter into the material of the jacket. “I don’t _do_ these things for anyone. If I was trying to keep you two out of trouble, I would’ve never let you in. I would’ve never let you out of my sight at this rate, given how often I’ve had to save you from muggers and criminals.”

Barry’s eyes darted over his face, scanning it for something, and his frown lightened. Up close he could smell Barry’s aftershave, see the way his throat worked as he swallowed hard. His hair brushed Len’s forehead as he leaned down, a soft, barely-there sensation, and his insides froze.

Len released him but Barry didn’t move back, watching his hand drop between them.

This was…

No. Not happening.

 _Not_ happening because _Iris_ was -

“Don’t stop on my account, babe.” They both started but Barry still didn’t budge aside from raising his head to meet Iris’s knowing stare as she strode back into the room. He hadn’t even heard her enter, was having a hard time comprehending the idea mostly because -

_What._

“Did you, uh, call?” Barry’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“Dad’ll be here soon thanks to the anonymous tip. We should probably go though, before he gets here.” Iris glanced at Len, the gleam in her eyes tracing a pleasant path up his spine because -

_Oh._

“You good to go, _Spider-Man_?” The tease laced through her voice like ribbons and he couldn’t quite hold back his grin.

“Ready when you are, _Iris_ ,” he purred.

The beaming smiles he received from them both were worth every shaky step and hissed breath to Mick's truck five minutes later.

 

***

 

Surprisingly, it was Mick and not his sister who burst out laughing when he caught the three of them in his designated corner of the library less than a week later doing some...less-than-heroic things.

It was Lisa who got them kicked out for slapping her brother upside the head with her notebook and snapping at him to “keep it in your pants, for _fuck’s sake_ , Lenny!” He figured it had more to do with him hurting his ribs or his arm than anything else but it was still irritating.

(They were definitely revisiting experimenting with his powers, though. For science, of course.)

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on my DCTV Tumblr @areyouscarletcold. Comments are always appreciated, and have a great day!


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